


Exhaustion in England

by FantabulousAss



Series: Reconnecting [5]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, No Sex, This was supposed to go somewhere else and then it didn't, Weight Gain, Weight Issues, this is the second to last part
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,359
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28432146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FantabulousAss/pseuds/FantabulousAss
Summary: Alfred finally visits his older brother's house, feeling nervous for good reason. There's a small conference the next day, and Russia isn't supposed to be there... but! The universe is rude on its best days. Despite the discomfort, some good comes out of this!
Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), America/Russia (Hetalia)
Series: Reconnecting [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2053482
Kudos: 18





	Exhaustion in England

Alfred heaved a sigh as he stood on England’s doorstep, feeling every single pound on his round body shift with the motion. England hadn’t seen him for some time, a careful move by Alfred, since he hadn’t been ready for a lecture in quite some time.

Being fair, he still wasn’t quite ready to hear it, but being that they were already in England, and nobody wanted to put up cash for a hotel, and he’d have to see Arthur  _ anyway _ … he could deal. He’d be fine. He had thick skin! Wasn’t that one of his finer points anyway?

He finally knocked, after ten minutes of psyching himself up.

Arthur had a sweet smile on his face when he opened the door, but it quickly fell when he saw the state of his former ward. “Good god, Alfred… what’s gotten into you?! Or dare I ask what  _ hasn’t _ gotten into you? You’re so…” Then, it seemed as if Arthur actually looked at the cringe on Alfred’s face and he sighed. “Sorry, dear boy… it’s just… been a while. It was… a bit of a shock.”

“Yeah, I can definitely see why!” He brushed it off, grin wide enough to bring that scowl back to Arthur’s fuzzy brows. “Not used to beholding so much awesomeness, it’s definitely an adjustment.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Well, get in here. You’re letting all the heat out.”

He swallowed a remark about knowing just how to warm the both of them back up and walked in, giving Arthur as wide a berth as he could, just so he didn’t have to brush up against him. “You look good, Artie, not as gangly. Eating someone’s cooking besides your own?” He said as he hung his puffy jacket up, hoping the jacket had given some to Arthur’s surprise.

“Christ, what is it with you? I’ll have you know I’ve gotten much better at cooking, even managed to surprise the idiot Frenchman.” Arthur preened slightly, not even looking at Alfred as he walked farther into his house, leading the way down hallways Alfred had walked millions of times. “But yes, as a matter of fact, I’ve been having dinner with the kids lately, making sure they’re doing well.”

Alfred smiled warmly, knowing Arthur always had a softness for Diana’s kids, and with Harry and Megan seceding from the family, he was more likely to pop in and make sure they were doing okay. “They’re big boys now, Arthur, they know what they’re doing.”

Arthur spun and glared at Alfred, expression softening when he saw that Al’s mouth was crooked gently upwards, showing he was only gently teasing. “I know, but they’re so young yet… Diana would think it hilarious, but bleedin’ hell.” He sighed. “They don’t know how important family is.”

Alfred placed his hand on the small of Arthur’s back and gently led him into the kitchen, unwilling to point out that he knew exactly how the kids felt and how proud of them he was for it. “I know, no one does nowadays. Ain’t that what all the old farts say?”

Arthur smacked Al’s pec with the back of his hand, Alfred doing his part to forget that it had jiggled once he’d smacked it. “You kids and your disrespect.”

They devolved into easy banter, gently prodding each other the way they always had, just without the malice that had really been there once upon a time.

“So, I know this is always a sensitive subject with you…” Arthur started while they ate dinner, pointedly not meeting Alfred’s eyes. “But pretending to ignore it won’t help anything. Are you doing well, Alfred? I was rude earlier, but I was shocked, you understand, so… Are you alright?”

Alfred sighed and laughed, shaking his head, “Loaded question, Art. Physically? Yeah, I’m fine. Emotionally?” He shook his hand in a noncommittal gesture. “I dunno. Shit’s fucked all over. I’m fine for now. It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“Is it relationship issues?”

Alfred  _ laughed _ . “Oh come on, old dude. Think I’d be so hung up over  _ boy problems _ ? I know I’m young but…” He trailed off when he glanced over to England and his genuinely worried, tender face.

It was rare they were so serious. They just… weren’t like that. They teased, laughed at each other, lectured, pretended to hate each other, bickered, fought… but they were so rarely genuine that this tenderness, this sign of true friendship felt like something he couldn’t pass up. “No, Arthur, it’s not relationship issues. I mean, I guess it is a little bit, but that’s so far from the main issue nowadays that it’s genuinely laughable.” He took off his glasses and started cleaning them, purposefully looking away from England’s genuinely worried face. “There’s just… a lot of unrest, you could say. In general. I know you warned me about Russia, so don’t start, but… I thought we were cool. Clearly we weren’t, so… Don’t worry about it. Intelligence is handling things, my people are handling things… my president’s a fucking… what’s a good insult that would go right over his head?”

Arthur snorted, “He’s a total gobshite. Knobhead.”

“Nah, too obvious, but you got the spirit.” Alfred speared a potato wedge, dipped it in a glob of ketchup and popped it in his mouth. “He’s stupid, and most everyone wants him out, but his followers are so loud.”

Arthur shook his head as Alfred rubbed his temples. Alfred looked… older. Wisened beyond his years. Really, Arthur supposed he just looked tired. He could definitely understand. “It’s hard to have leaders like that without falling to their madness. I’m proud that you’ve not changed with his rule.”

“I’ve always listened to my people more than my leaders.” Alfred said, looking proud and just a little bit more energized before spearing another potato wedge and popping it in, darkness overshadowing his eyes once more. “Figure that’s why I’m a lardass no matter what I do.”

Arthur sputtered, about to lecture him about language at the  _ table _ , he didn’t raise him like this, until he took a second and realized what he said. Then, he just flushed at the use of a word he’d thoughtlessly hurled Alfred’s way countless times. “So you’ve… tried to budge the weight, then?”

“Not lately. I’ve been doing emotional eating which is why it’s up so high, but even if I hadn’t been, I’d still be too fat to fit into my old uniforms… by a lot, too. I guess I’m just tired, Art. My people are tired. I can’t blame them.” He pushed his plate, emptied, aside. “I figured, y’know, I’m already an embarrassment, might as well eat shit I like and damn the consequences, at least for now. I’m not really up for anything sexual or romantic right now anyway, so… who cares?”

It felt good to talk candidly with someone. It felt nice to talk without his nation persona. It felt so nice to admit that he was  _ tired _ without it being a national concern. The last time he’d been able to speak so candidly was when he had left France’s place in the fall. “He’s sent me places, y’know. Over to Germany’s, over to Japan’s, France, to shift the weight, but now they’re pissed cos my  _ influence _ ‘ruined their nations’.” He rolled his eyes. “So, y’know, don’t get fat around me or your leader’s gonna hate you too.”

Arthur almost caught his laugh, but it slipped out. “Oh Alfred, Francois has been pudging up over the last decade, did he  _ really _ -,” Alfred glared at him, the only sharpness in his gaze being in his expression. His eyes showed the pain he was so obviously trying to hide.  _ Oh. Of course he had blamed Alfred. It was easiest to explain, wasn’t it? _ “Oh  _ Alfred _ … that’s hardly fair. Like I said, he’s been chubbing up for years, it’s not your fault.”

Instead of being comforted, he just felt… hurt. Hurt by France, yeah, but also hurt by the fact that they were acting like Alfred’s influence was so terrible, that being on the larger side was so awful, and they’d all hopped on the “Blame America” train. He picked up his plate and Arthur’s and brought it to the sink. “You still wash these by hand or did you finally get a dishwasher?”

`~`

He was up earlier than Arthur, making breakfast with anything and everything he had in there. It wasn’t a full English, but it was a decent American breakfast, if he said so himself.

Arthur shuffled in, green eyes bleary and unfocused but spurred on by the scent of bacon frying. “Christ, Alfred, it smells delightful in here.” He wrapped his arms around Alfred’s middle and lay his head on his shoulder. “You’re a guest, you didn’t have to cook.”

Alfred barely kept himself from jumping when Arthur’s arms settled around his waist, held up by the swell of his belly. He wanted to squirm away, but managed to keep his composure. Arthur was snuggly when he was seconds away from sleep, he didn’t mean anything by it. “Don’t worry about it, Artie. ‘S no biggie. I made you some Earl Grey, too.” He pointed to the mug he’d gotten Arthur last Christmas. It was full to the brim of Earl Grey, as strong as he could make it.

“You’re a saint.” Arthur untangled himself from Alfred and held the mug, inhaling and sighing, his blissful face turning to a grimace. “It’s too strong.”

“Add some sugar to cut it.” He said, pointing his finger to the barely used sugar bowl. “Just a touch.”

He nodded and did so, humming as the warmth spread from his mouth all the way down to his belly. He was always so damned chilly in the morning, he couldn’t stand it. “You’re lucky you can actually keep weight on.” He mumbled. “Keeps you warm.”

Alfred snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’d rather be cold than so fat nothing you guys make fits me. I was on a hike with Ludwig, and we went to these really cool little local shops, but…” He trailed off, biting a piece of bacon as he plated the rest of the food and brought it to the table. “But nothing fit and Ludwig was embarrassed, like it was his fault.”

Arthur nodded and sat at the table. “He’s kind like that.” He agreed and watched as Alfred ate his food, so slowly, so aware of Arthur’s eyes on him as he did so.  _ When had Alfred started caring when others saw him eat? _

“Yeah, well. It’s embarrassing. It’s not his fault I’m-,” He stopped and sighed, cutting into his egg and watching the yolk spill instead of finishing his sentence. “I expected you to yell at me, y’know. More than you did.”

A bit of color rose to Arthur’s cheeks as he sipped more of his tea. “I could tell. That’s why I didn’t. I’m sorry that I get on you. I just… I worry about you.”

“I know… it’s just hard to hear it when you’ve got the rest of the world pissed at you for  _ so many reasons _ … I understand why everyone’s upset, but do you have to bitch about my weight? I get it, I understand they don’t want to see it, but fucking  _ hell _ , there are more important things!” Despite his best efforts, Alfred’s eyes swam with tears. He remembered each and every person he loved looking at him in shock, like he was some kind of monster when he’d gotten to their home.

The first had been Russia. He’d just admitted to meddling in Alfred’s election, and once he saw how angry Alfred was about it, he had doubled down, commenting on Alfred’s intelligence, standing by his decision, saying that he was trying to preserve his own legacy, and that had been the last straw for Alfred. He’d kicked Ivan out and had barely spoken to him since.

The second had been Kiku. Kiku had recovered quickly but Al had been so emotionally raw that he’d caught it, and admittedly, had been more withdrawn than usual. Kiku, in an attempt to make Alfred feel a little more at home, had suggested that they play video games. Honestly, Al hadn’t been up to it, but he played anyway. He hadn’t been overly close with Kiku in a long time, and craving physical affection, he’d tried... Kiku had been polite, but declined. They’d talked about it afterwards, and Kiku had said that he would’ve felt like he was taking advantage of Alfred, but at the time, Al had been really hurt by the rejection and gone home. Now, he was grateful for it, but… more emotional eating.

Germany had been polite, had hardly changed his stony expression when Alfred had arrived… But he, too, had treated Alfred differently. Not badly, Ludwig wasn’t cruel, but he had treated Alfred differently. Once they had relaxed, Alfred had dropped his persona and they’d talked, but Ludwig was still… different. They’d worked out, Alfred was still just as strong as ever, even if his muscles were buried under blubber.

France… Francois was never good at enforcing rules with Alfred and had allowed him to beg for and receive a tour. Alfred hadn’t been to Paris in a long time, and while Francois had argued that it wasn’t the only interesting thing about him, it had the most choices for food, and they’d ended up dining more often than anything else. Francois had been the only one to actually ask how he was doing, pinch his cheek, treat him like a  _ friend _ , talk to him and let him talk, being completely and utterly honest with one another. It felt nice.

Arthur had been the only one to actually stop himself from insulting Alfred and apologize. Alfred’s pride had been dinged a little, sure, but… nothing like before. It was a little awkward, but Alfred had hoped with breakfast, things would go back to normal.

They did, for a while. They talked about business, got that out of the way and got back to talking the way they always had. They ended up watching a movie, the last Avengers, which, despite his protests and whining, Alfred knew Arthur liked at least a little bit.

Throughout the movie, Arthur got closer and closer, until they were nearly all the way through the movie and Alfred realized he had to pee, but somehow his belly had become a pillow for a totally entranced Arthur.

The motion was so familiar, how often had Ivan lain on him and gotten his hair stroked and mussed? It made his heart ache. Sure, he missed Ivan, missed bitching at him, missed their playful insults… but this was nice too. Hanging out with Arthur, even if it was humiliating that he was soft enough, round enough, to be a pillow. Arthur was so light compared to Ivan that he almost hadn’t felt him.

He remembered one of the first times Ivan had done it. He’d been so smug, shoved ice cold hands up Alfred’s shirt and practically froze his nipples off. They’d fought, then, gentle play fighting that had ended with them snuggling, Ivan’s huge head on Alfred’s much smaller, then, stomach. It had been so fucking  _ sweet _ that they had just… dozed off together. It had made Alfred think… maybe it wasn’t so terrible, gaining all that weight.

But… he knew differently now. Ivan had been taking advantage of Alfred’s trust, building it up just to break it down later.

As soon as he’d realized Arthur was laying on him, he had started carding through his hair, the motion familiar and automatic. Arthur sighed and pretended he wasn’t crying, though Alfred could feel the heat of Arthur’s tears hitting his shirt and soaking through.

Alfred wished he could cry, wished he could blame it on the ending scene, but he only sighed, wishing he was home. He appreciated that Arthur was being kind to him, humoring him, watching movies… but he’d rather not be here.

He’d really rather not go to the conference tomorrow. A few other countries were supposed to be there, not the world, but… more than Alfred was comfortable putting up his persona around. He’d rather be home, under the covers, or at Matthew’s-

No, he couldn’t go to Matt’s. Matt hadn’t seen him and Al wasn’t planning on letting him see him. Not until he’d shed weight. Arthur was one thing, he was prickly no matter what, but Matt… saw right through him. He’d know that, sure, Alfred was upset about the state of his country, but he’d also see the pain that Russia was still causing, even though he’d had that talk with Francois, who he was sure had spread the news to the Canadian.

He probably already knew. Matt wasn’t one to text first, but he probably knew exactly why Alfred hadn’t texted him in a hot minute.

As the movie finished up, Arthur apologized and sat up, dabbing his eyes with the back of his hands. “Sorry. I hadn’t realized.”

Alfred waved his hand and smirked. “No biggie, dude. Don’t worry about it, it’s a sad end to the franchise.”

Arthur pouted, brows furrowed in mock-anger and then dropped it, the tears having sapped his energy. “Are you ready for the conference tomorrow?”

He didn’t answer. The short, easy answer would be “Yes, England, of course I am!” The problem was… he wasn’t. His suit fit, it was a touch larger than he actually was, giving the illusion of having lost at least a little weight… but he wasn’t ready, knowing all eyes would be on him no matter that he did. The only good thing was that Russia himself wasn’t actually going to be there, he’d called ahead to say he’d gotten completely snowed in.

But, of course the universe couldn’t have been kind to him. The first person he saw when the two of them walked into the boardroom was none other than Ivan Braginsky.

He had the audacity to look good. Then again, Alfred had always thought Ivan looked good. He was chubbier in the face, but he always got that way this time of year. He knew underneath Ivan’s massive coat, he’d be slightly chubbier than usual, belly actually having rolls and his little love handles were perfectly squeezable… but they weren’t like that anymore, so Alfred ducked his head and walked over to where Arthur and Francois were squabbling in French.

Francois pinched his cheek, the way he always did when Alfred had pudged up in the past, and then kissed his cheeks in greeting.

“Aw, Fran, you know I hate it when you do that.” He griped, but only a little, smiling warmly at Francois, whose expression was nothing but fond. He scrubbed his hand over his cheeks, laughing at the faux offense Francois tutted.

“I know, but I can’t resist when you’re looking so kissable!” They hugged, then, despite the fact that they’d only seen each other a couple months ago. Alfred loved hugging France. He always smelled good, more like baking than cologne, nowadays, and he had actually pudged up, making him much softer to squeeze.

Arthur and Francois went back to bickering, while Alfred found Lithuania and started talking about… something.

Lithuania was also kind enough to not say anything, or even look surprised at his old friend as they spoke.

Despite Russia being in the room, Alfred had almost forgotten he was even in the same building, even as Lithuania glanced around, sure they were being watched. Alfred didn’t mind. Let the fucker watch. He might be fat, but he was fine, thank you.

“Alfred.” Lithuania’s eyes went wide, knowing that the tone of the man standing behind Alfred meant business. “We need to speak.”

Alfred felt his own eyes roll as he internally cursed, turning around to stare daggers at Ivan, even though that was the last thing he wanted to do. “What do you need, Russia? I’ve been instructed by Intelligence not to speak to you so you better hope it’s just a howdy do and away you fucking go.”

Ivan’s nose and brow both wrinkled. “There is no need to be rude.”

Behind Alfred, Lithuania slunk away. Good, because the two of them might actually come to blows and despite Lithuania being tougher than he looked, Alfred didn’t want to crush the little guy if he fell back.

Alfred crossed his arms and met Ivan’s gaze, glaring. “Look, politics aside, I would prefer if we kept this meeting professional and didn’t speak to each other unless we needed to. I don’t have much else to say to you, and I’m a little surprised you’re bothering to talk to me now.”

The big guy looked uncomfortable, but he usually did when Alfred held his ground and tossed the words he had said back to him. “You…” Ivan looked confused, and then nodded, lips pursing as he turned and headed for his seat.

In lieu of Germany, the meeting was led by Arthur, and wasn’t very eventful. All paperwork had been turned in, and the majority of the countries had orders not to talk about the various deals they were signing. Things had changed in the digital age, and Alfred figured the world leaders actually got them together to keep relations easy.

Grateful that he’d silenced his phone, he felt it buzz in his pocket. He checked, and of course, it was Russia.

**_We need to talk._ **

_ Fuck off. Please? We’re in a meeting. _

**_I like it when you use your manners._ **

Alfred sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.  _ Fine. Please leave me alone. I don’t want to talk to you. _

**_But I would like to speak to you._ **

_ You should’ve thought about that two years ago, now fuck OFF. _

Alfred shoved his phone back into his pocket, not taking it out no matter how many text messages Ivan sent or how many dirty looks the older man threw his way.

The meeting concluded, Alfred rushed out, only to be caught in the downstairs bathroom. “Alfred, we need to talk. I have been giving you space, but it is time we stop this silly game.”

Alfred’s eyes fluttered closed, and his head tilted back. He was sitting in a stall, having hoped it would conceal him enough to get away and get back to Arthur’s. “I don’t want to talk to you, Ivan, you’ve said everything you needed to say.” He ignored the fact that his voice choked just a little when he said Ivan’s name.

“For one who likes to chatter all day, you are terrible at speaking when it is important.” It almost sounded as though Russia was teasing him, trying to make him laugh. When they were cool, it would’ve worked, but now...

Alfred sighed, stepping out of the stall reluctantly. “What do you want? Wanna point out I’ve gotten fatter? So has everyone else. You’re not sharing new information. You wanna apologize? That’s great! Find someone who cares! Please, Ivan, I don’t want to talk to you, I’m not really interested in anything you have to say, not after what you did.”

Russia sucked on his tongue and looked Alfred over. “I wanted to tell you that I am sorry, and that you looked nice and spoke very well in the meeting today.”

“Please,” Alfred snorted, heart aching at the little compliment. He couldn’t believe Russia, not for real. “Please don’t. You snooped through my stuff for politics. For your boss. I can’t trust you, Ivan. I was warned about you, but I ignored it. I had my ideas, but I ignored them. I have  _ no idea _ how much of anything you said was real. It…” He sighed through his nose and steeled his eyes. “It’s been two years. Do you know how shitty that is? Do you know what your snooping did? Do you understand how the shit you dug up has affected me for the last two years? I can’t  _ trust you _ , Russia. Even if I could, I don’t…”

Against his efforts, his lip and voice trembled and he turned, facing the wall. “I believed you _every_ _time_ you assured me I was still… attractive enough for you. You know that? Every fucking time. I believed you right up until after I caught you snooping around in my office, leafing through all of my important paperwork! We had _one rule_ , Russia, and _you_ broke it and you broke my trust and I can’t trust you anymore and I don’t _want to_.” He scrubbed the tears that fell from his eyes away. “I don’t want to worry anymore. Nothing you can do can make me want to trust you again.”

Russia wanted to reach out and touch Alfred with a gloved hand, but… he resisted. “I… understand. I suppose we do not need to speak after all.”

“No, Russia, we didn’t. Why don’t you ever listen to me?” America hated the weight of Ivan’s eyes on his shoulders. Being honest, there was nothing he would rather do than turn and bury his head in Ivan’s shoulders and forget about the whole thing, but he couldn’t. He really couldn’t trust Ivan.

He could hear Ivan swallow, could hear the little smile in his voice. “Usually because I know better.”

Alfred snorted, wiping away another few tears that ran their way down his chubby cheeks. “Sure. Whatever you say.” He halfway expected Russia to laugh at him for crying, but he didn’t. He just patted him on the shoulder and walked out the room, leaving Alfred to clean up his face alone.

Arthur found him not much later, leaning against a sink, getting his breathing under control. “Are you okay, Alfred? You ran from the room so quickly… we all saw Russia follow you.”

Alfred gave a little smirk and nodded. “Asshole thought I’d want to talk to him outside of a boardroom ever again and wouldn’t take no for an answer, the way he usually does.”

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Arthur’s brows furrowed and he looked over Alfred, looking for bruises, fingers twitching like he wanted to check manually.

“No, no, nothing like that.” He honestly would’ve preferred it if he had, it would’ve given him an excuse to retaliate. “It’s fine, dude. You wanna grab dinner somewhere? I’m…” Arthur was looking at him, a touch concerned. They’d grabbed food before the meeting. He couldn’t be hungry yet… at least, he wasn’t supposed to be. Alfred sighed and looked down to what he could see of the floor, tangling his hand in his hair. “Never mind.”

“No, no, I’ll ask around and see if there’s anyone who’d like to have a late lunch with us.” Alfred smiled gratefully at Arthur. He usually wasn’t so indulgent with him, that was usually Francois’ job, spoiling him and Matt, but Arthur’s kindness was really appreciated.

“Thanks, Art. I know we just ate, but…” He shrugged. “Just… thank you.”

Arthur gave a tight nod and took out his phone, texting their friends who had been in the meeting. Only Francois ended up coming, which was just fine by Alfred.

They shot the shit, bickered, told jokes, and by the end of it, Alfred felt a lot better. Lunch was light, which they were all grateful for. He had needed this, not just after seeing Ivan again, but in general. It was nice to feel normal, get bitched at for how his hair was laying because he hadn’t showered that morning, rather than how tight his button up shirt was. He allowed the two of them to ruffle his hair, bitch at him in French and pinch his cheeks.

By the time Arthur and Alfred headed back to Arthur’s house, Alfred’s cheeks hurt from smiling so hard. He actually returned Francois’ cheek kisses and hugged him extra tight, hearing a few of his vertebrae crack with a grin. “Bye, papa, I’ll text you later.”

“Au revoir, Alfred, I look forward to it.”

The ride home was amicably quiet. Alfred still had a smile on his face and an ease about his presence so Arthur said nothing. Times were tough all over the world, and times had been tough for Alfred before, but he’d never let it get him down before. He was usually so animated, so self-assured. He’d never acted like this in Arthur’s many years of raising and knowing him.

It matured him, but it also made Arthur a little melancholy, that the world had finally broken the living sunshine that was Alfred F. Jones.

Granted, it would probably just be for a little while, until leadership changed hands, things got back to normal, but it still surprised and saddened Arthur. He placed his hand on Alfred’s and met his eyes. “You’ll make it through this, you know.”

Alfred’s smile went from ecstatic to understanding and gentle. “I know. Like I said, shit’s tough all over, not just in the old US of A. Maybe I haven’t been dealing with it right, cos that was probably the best lunch I’ve had in two years, and I don’t just mean the food.”

Arthur leaned against the door of the car and stared out the window at the bleak sky. “Francois told me a little bit about the conversation you two had… you know you can come to me with matters of the heart… right?”

Alfred laughed and nodded, his breath fogging up the glass. “Yeah, Art. I know. I just… I was worried about what you’d say when I got here. Petrified, almost, but ya gotta understand, Artie, I’ve been hearin’ about it for the last two years. I was sent over to Fran’s, he knew the situation. I wasn’t ready for more humiliation.”

Arthur nodded. The last few years had been difficult for everyone, not just Alfred, but Alfred was the one who looked the most ragged and seemed the most jaded at this point. Both of their bosses were the same type of stupid, but… Alfred had been correct, his boss’s followers were definitely louder.

He understood that Alfred’s eating was a method of self-soothing, but he had been putting weight on before this new onslaught, before his split with Russia. He wanted so badly to ask, but he stayed silent, not knowing if he wanted the answer.

Alfred looked comfortable, there, in the car with him and that was all that mattered. Nothing too earth-shattering had happened at the meeting, and they could all be fortunate for that.

He yawned, then, inspiring a yawn in Alfred as well. He chuckled and shook his head. “The weather really is miserable here.”

Arthur nodded. “True, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yeah?” Alfred noticed the pride in Arthur’s eyes and smiled with as much fondness as he could muster. “I wouldn’t either.”

They made dinner together, once they got home and unwound from the meeting. To their surprise, they worked together well with Alfred’s new calmness in the kitchen. It balanced out the previous total chaos they’d both been before, and actually came out with food they would both happily eat.

“Not bad old man,” Alfred complimented, drinking his tea the way he usually did, with ice and plenty of sugar.

Arthur rolled his eyes, “Don’t talk with your mouth full.” He chided, looking back down at his plate.

The next day, when it was time for Alfred to go home, they stood at the door, hugging for a long time before Arthur finally let the younger blond leave. “You know you’re always welcome back, and for Christ’s sake, don’t be a stranger. Hop on the mobile for once and ring me.”

“Christ Art, I will, I will! I’m gonna be late for my plane if you don’t let me go!” He was half-tempted to just bring Arthur with him since he refused to let go. “I’ll call you soon as my plane lands, okay?”

Arthur waved as Alfred ran down his sidewalk and hopped into the taxi. Alfred waved as soon as he was in the car and immediately fogged up his windows with his sweet, contented smile.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading! This was originally supposed to end up with Alfred and Arthur hooking up, but it just didn't end up that way. This is my second to last installment and then I'll probably get back to writing other stuff eventually. Comments are love, let me know if you'd like more!


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